


Go Ask Alice

by DragonsPhoenix



Category: Leverage
Genre: Crack, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-10-31
Updated: 2009-10-31
Packaged: 2017-11-25 20:51:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 276
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/642838
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DragonsPhoenix/pseuds/DragonsPhoenix
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Getting ready for a con job at a costume party.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Go Ask Alice

“Is this a fetish thing?”

“No,” Sophie replied just as Eliot said, “Yes.”

Sophie glared at Eliot who tipped his cowboy hat at her, saying “Ma'am.”

“Hell yes,” Alec added while pressing a button on a small gadget in his hand. It burst outward in two directions, almost knocking off Eliot's hat.

Grabbing the stick from Alec, Eliot glared at him and asked, “What the?”

“It's a Minbari fighting pike, baby. Took me days to figure out how to make one. Give it back.”

“No way,” Eliot replied. “You're dangerous with this thing.”

“Gentlemen,” Sophie admonished.

“No, of course not,” she said as she turned back towards Parker. “You're Alice,” she added as she brushed the blue skirt out, away from Parker's legs. At Parker's blank stare she said, “Alice in Wonderland? You know, from the children's book.”

“Although, given Lewis Carroll's proclivities, fetish might not be that far off,” Nate said as he poured himself a glass of whiskey.

“You're not helping,” Sophie told him.

“Never read it,” Parker said. “How come you get to be Cleopatra?”

Sophie had just started to explain when Eliot, holding the pike in one hand and keeping Alec at bay with his opposite knee, leaned in and whispered, “If you give her that you're more regal bit, you'll really be in trouble.”

Realizing the truth of Eliot's words, Sophie went for a distraction. “Surely you had a favorite story as a child: Winnie the Pooh or perhaps The Wind in the Willows.”

Parker looked thoughtful for a moment and then scrunched her face up a bit. “Incoming,” Eliot warned.

“My foster brother had a copy of The Anarchist Cookbook.”


End file.
